


An Unexpected Engagement

by theRadioStarr



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:43:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3657753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theRadioStarr/pseuds/theRadioStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For /u/Japhir on Reddit: "I would die happy if someone wrote or drew a short story/comic where Fem/Trevelyan received word that her family engaged her to an Antivan and Cullen decided to pull a whole Josephine/Romance thing and challenge the guy to a duel in Val Royeaux."</p><p>Josephine's romance scene in question can be referenced here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8UFber60rk</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Engagement

**Author's Note:**

> No Val Royeaux in this fic, sorry! I kept it close to home.

No, no, _no…_ there was _no way_ her father was trying to do this to her…

_Andraste’s tits!_

Rowen Trevelyan was pacing her room at Skyhold, a crumpled letter in hand. She had read it so many times, the little roll of parchment sat quite flat, and she could recite the words on it from memory.

 

_3 Drakonis, 9:41 Dragon_

_Rowen,_

_Congratulations on your appointment to Inquisitor. We are proud to know that one of our own children is leading the people back to order and the Maker in such a respectable fashion._

_As you are no longer bound by the Ostwick Circle, I felt it my duty to find you a suitable husband, as I have had the pleasure of doing for your older sisters. We will be leaving for Skyhold shortly, in the company of your fiancé Bruno Santiago Lanos._

_You will find that he is an honest man, as he has treated everyone he has met here with a smile and warm words. His family has many holdings in Antiva, including acreage used for business in winemaking._

_I will say no more, lest we have nothing to say when our journey is complete._

_We look forward to seeing you soon, doll._

_Bann Cypress Trevelyan of Ostwick._

Rowen groaned again, tossing the letter down on her desk and perching in front of her looking glass.

She pulled the tie out of her dark brown hair, letting it fall around her chin, softening the sharp angles of her high cheekbones and bony jaw, bringing out the delicate point of her chin. She stared back into her own light blue eyes, admiring (as she always did, she loved them) the way they stood out against her permanently sun-kissed skin.

It had taken Rowen a week on a ship across the Waking Sea, and then another week on foot to reach the Temple of Sacred Ashes for the Conclave.

Meaning her family could be here any day now.

She was glad they had made it back from the Graves when they did, needing the time to prepare for the ball in Halamshiral; she couldn’t imagine how Cullen would react if they showed up with this _fiancé_ of hers (she bit back another groan at the thought) and she wasn’t here to explain.

Not that she knew how she was going to tell him.

_Oh, so my parents decided to arrange a marriage for me! Hooray for nobles!_

No, that may be straight to the point, but it was cold and impersonal.

She was still racking her brain when she heard her door open a few minutes later, his familiar heavy footfalls on the steps leading into her room.

“Rowen?” he asked as he reached the top step and began to cross to her. “Are you alright? No one’s seen you all day, Leliana just cornered me and told me I should come check on you.”

He had reached her, a gloved hand finding the side of her face. When she looked at him, saw the way his eyes were scrunched up with concern, bringing out the tiny lines that had started forming in the corners, she felt tears stinging her own.

She tried to swallow away the achy lump that had formed in her throat, but it didn’t work.

 _Maker,_ she loved this man more than anything, even if she hadn’t told him so yet. How was she supposed to tell him she had been arranged to be engaged to someone else?

Rowen closed her eyes, and felt the first hot tear drop down her cheek. He was quick to wipe it away, but the one drop was enough to open the floodgates, and she pulled away, not wanting to ruin the leather of his gloves, pushing the letter on the desk towards him as she spun her back to him.

“Rowen, what’s-”

“Just – read it,” she finally managed, and the hands that had reached out to try to comfort her disappeared.

Cullen swore, more colourfully than was usual for him. His hands were back on her shoulders, spinning her around again to drag her into a comforting embrace, his large, strong hands rubbing soothing circles into her back and smoothing her hair.

“They could – they could be here _any day_ , and I – I don’t know what I can do about it,” Rowen choked through her tears, clinging to him as if it was the last time she would ever hold him.

For all she knew, it very well could be.

“Rowen,” he murmured, his voice low but strong, leaning back just enough to move a hand under her chin to force her to look at him. He was blurry through the tears, but she could see he wasn’t angry, just upset to see her in such a state. What had she ever done to deserve him? “We’ll sort this out. I promise. Maybe Leliana or Josephine have some ideas… well, maybe I’ll go to Josephine first, I can tell you now what Leliana’s ideas would consist of…”

It prompted a reluctant laugh from Rowen, and when she did, he smiled warmly, drying her face once again with a gloved hand.

“I promise you we won’t take this lying down,” he told her. “We’ll fight it with everything in us – unless you, um… well…”

She reached out and smacked him lightly on the chest, a ring clanking off his plate. “Do you think I’d be standing here ruining your armour with my tears if I _wanted_ this?”

He relaxed visibly, smiling again at her. “No, of course not.” He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips, turning to leave her only a moment later.

Rowen reached out and caught his elbow. “Please stay with me,” she pleaded. “Can’t Josephine wait until the morning?”

He turned back to her, reaching up to tuck her hair behind an ear before placing his strong hand on the back of her neck.

“Of course,” he murmured again, wrapping her up in another comforting embrace, and Rowen thought that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out okay after all.

 

*                             *                             *

 

Cullen left her side late that night, laying next to her until she had drifted into an uneasy sleep.

He could have stayed with her, he was sure she wouldn’t protest, but he didn’t want any more wild rumours if he was spotted leaving this morning from her place instead of his own.

Leaving at such a late hour as he did last night was bad enough.

He made it to Josephine’s office before the Ambassador herself that morning, waiting impatiently for her to arrive so he could pick her brain for ideas.

When Josephine finally showed up, she was still in the middle of her last morning routines: massaging and stretching her writing hand as she spoke quietly through a number of poems and turns of phrase meant to twist the tongue, buzzing her lips and humming through a number of different arpeggios. She didn’t notice Cullen waiting for her until she was already halfway across the room to her desk.

“Good morning, Commander,” she smiled politely, stopping short at something she must have seen on his face. Her expression went from cheery to concerned in less than a second, and she was marching forward determinedly. “Is everything alright? You look terrible, and it must be urgent if you’re here so early.”

Cullen had taken the letter from Rowen’s father from her desk before leaving last night, and he was glad he did; just thinking about the whole affair left him speechless, and he simply handed the letter off to Josephine instead, much as Rowen had with him the night before.

Josephine read it quickly, her expression turning to despair. “This is a difficult situation, Cullen,” she murmured, tone apologetic. “It is indeed a father’s place to find a suitable husband for his daughters.”

Cullen felt his heart sinking. Was there nothing to be done? Maybe Leliana’s ideas would be best here, after all.

If he and Rowen were ever to be married, he wanted it to be a big affair; it was uncharacteristic of him, but he wanted the entire world to see how much he loved her.

He knew he did, even if they hadn’t yet told each other as much.

Maybe if they ran away, left _now_ for Halamshiral, and found a Chantry Mother in a tiny town along the way who would perform a private ceremony for them in the middle of the night, he would jump at the opportunity.

She told him she didn’t want this marriage her father had arranged. Maybe he would suggest his idea and see what she thought.

His musings had only taken him a second, and in that time, Josephine’s lips stretched into a smile that was surprisingly warm. “However, she _is_ the Inquisitor. No one holds authority over the Inquisitor except the Chantry. And since there is no Divine in place…I think there is something you can do, then, Cullen. I will tell you it’s not easy, but you’ll be more than suited to the task.”

“I don’t care what it is, Josie,” he pleaded. “I’d do _anything_.”

He settled in to a chair across from her as she explained.

 

*                             *                             *

 

Rowen’s parents arrived that afternoon.

She had hoped to have one more day to compose herself, but it couldn’t be helped.

She had woken alone, and hadn’t seen Cullen all morning, skipping lunch when scouts came in to inform them of the large company moving toward the Keep.

Rowen greeted her parents in her full regalia, the symbol of the Inquisition stitched into her Knight Enchanter robes, sitting on her Andrastian throne as they filed into the hall to meet her. She wanted to send a message without having to say it: that she was no longer under the authority of her Father, that she recognized none of this proceeding.

She was so focused on the procession making its way up her hall, she didn’t notice Cullen come to stand by her right side until his hand closed over hers briefly on the arm of her throne. Rowen looked at him, her careful mask slipping to show him her fear and anxiety, but he was strong and confident.

Perhaps he knew something.

Rowen knew her Father was looking out for her the only way he knew how, but the bitterness at his unintended betrayal was almost overwhelming; her mother would certainly be happy to hear she found someone she truly loved, but her Father would be disappointed to learn that Cullen had been born on a farm, with no noble blood to his name, regardless of whether he was the Commander of the most powerful army in Southern Thedas. He would certainly try to talk her out of it.

And since he had already arranged someone for her, he would expect her to follow his word.

They stopped at the foot of the dias, staring at her sitting there regally, flanked by her Commander, before dropping to one knee in front of her and bowing their heads. It spread like a wave all the way to the back of the column. Rowen let them stay like that for a moment; usually she wanted people to _stop_ bowing down before her, but she felt that her parents needed this demonstration to help her make her point.

“Rise,” she commanded, her voice ringing through the hall with authority when she decided they had prostrated themselves long enough. They obeyed immediately, though it took her parents a little longer than the others to bring themselves to their feet again.

Rowen looked at her parents standing before her, and felt the coldness in her starting to thaw. She had received her father’s darker skin tone and hair, but her face was entirely her mothers. They had visited her frequently at the Circle, sending her care packages and making sure she was well cared for and comfortable.

They always had her best interests at heart.

They were smiling at her proudly, her father finally taking a step forward to address her. “Thank you for receiving us,” he told her formally, before relaxing into a more familiar stance. “We’re so proud of you. We’ve missed you, doll.”

Rowen stood, a smile reaching her own face, though it was certainly less warm than that of those before her. She saw a man with dark skin like her Ambassador’s pushing his way politely to the front of the company, so he might speak with her himself.

“May I introduce to you the Commander of my armies, Ser Cullen Rutherford?” she responded instead to distract herself from the man her parents had brought along.

“It is an honour,” her father bowed again, this time toward Cullen. “We have heard news of how impressive the might of the armies of the faithful have become, and we came to see that they live up to their reputation. You should be proud.”

Cullen accepted the compliment silently, with a respectful nod. Rowen turned back to her parents, and when she caught her mother’s eye, she saw something flashing in them; her mother was observant to a fault, and had no doubt picked up on something in the tone of her voice that betrayed them.

“Allow me, then,” her father continued as the Antivan man stepped up to her father’s side, “to introduce to you Lord Bruno Santiago Lanos of Antiva City.”

He smiled warmly at Rowen, stepping forward again to the foot of the dias, bowing to her in a flourish. His eyes were a deep brown, his nose a little hooked, his hair left in loose waves to fall to his jaw, the same length as hers; he was not an unattractive man, but certainly not an attractive one either.

“It is an honour and a pleasure to meet you, Your Worship,” he told her, his accent rolling, a little harsher than Josie’s. “I look forward to getting to know you better.”

Rowen’s father turned to look behind him as those gathered in the hall began to whisper scandalously at the implication. Her mother was having a hard time containing her smirk.

_She knows._

Rowen dipped her head at the man in front of her, and he smiled warmly, perhaps trying to entice her to give one of her own. Instead, she threw a (hopefully cool and controlled) glance back over her shoulder at the Commander before addressing her parents again.

“I apologize for the poor reception,” she started, and Lord Lanos stepped back to join her father, a little crease of concern forming between his brows at her subtle rejection. “There is work I must attend to urgently – unfortunately, you’ve arrived at a busy time.”

“We can wait, my dear,” her mother finally spoke, her voice low but carrying. “Do what you must. We will see you when you are free.”

Rowen nodded in thanks, throwing her mother a subtle yet loaded glance towards her tower door. Her mother nodded, so small Rowen could barely see it, and smiled widely.

Cullen was watching her carefully, his face a little red at the sight of the man her parents had arranged her to, his expression cold and stony. She afforded him only another careful glance, but he had fire and steel in his eyes, assuring her that he had everything under control.

She took a deep breath, hoping her eyes would show him her thanks, and she swept past him to the doors of her quarters.

When Rowen finally reached the safety of her room again, she immediately went to her closet, seeking out something a little less formal to wear. She was in the middle of changing when she heard her mother knocking on the door.

_Tap-tap… tap-tap… tap-tap…_

It sounded like horses galloping. Her mother had knocked that way on her door for years before her magic surfaced. It was like their own private code.

“Come in,” she called, turning around only when she heard her mother reaching the top step.

“That’s quite the strapping young Templar you’ve got wrapped around your baby finger, doll,” her mother told her with a dreamy sigh and a dangerous smile.

Rowen smiled in turn, crossing the room to throw her arms around her mother. “I’ve missed you, mama.”

“I’ve missed you too, doll,” her mother murmured in her ear. “I’m so sorry about all this; I don’t think your father understands yet, either. We’d heard a few rumours, but with nothing concrete to back it up, I didn’t have what I needed to argue him out of this whole affair. You know he’s just trying to look out for what’s best for you, don’t you? If we had known beforehand…”

“It’s okay, mama. I’m sure the whole thing will be sorted out without any hard feelings.” Rowen finally stepped out of her mother’s embrace, inviting her to sit next to her on the couch. “You haven’t had any land or title promised put into effect already, have you?”

“None yet,” her mother answered. “He is a smart man: he requested time to get to know you before going through with the wedding, and any promises made would not be put into effect until after the alliance was permanently cemented, on either side.”

“Good,” Rowen responded with a relieved sigh.

She listened intently as her mother brought her up to speed with the goings-on at home. Her mother was content to natter on forever, and Rowen hung on every word.

If only she didn’t have this terrible apprehension hanging over her head, she might have enjoyed her mother’s company more.

 

*                             *                             *

 

Cullen took a moment to cool off before leaving his position at the right side of her throne, immediately sweeping through the hall to the training grounds, hoping that throwing himself into his work would help take his mind off the encounter with her parents.

He had hoped to follow her through her door, but her mother stopped him with a kind, apologetic look. They couldn’t compromise the situation, and so he would have to keep his distance.

He saw the Lord Lanos talking to many of the Fereldan and Orlesian nobles in the hall as he passed through. The man was polite to a fault, taking the hand of every lady and pressing his lips to their fingers lightly, bowing deeply to every man.

Cullen snorted when he had made it out of the hall into fresh air again. As if a man like that could protect her. If anything, _she_ would be the one protecting _him._

His soldiers trained him with apologetic looks as he passed through them, but they went back to their training with a renewed sense of vigor when Cullen caught their glances. He took out his sword and shield to help work with a new bunch of recruits, helping them with their form.

He stopped with them about an hour later, intending to make some rounds and check on the others who were training, when he noticed Lord Lanos leaning against the wall nearby, watching him. He gave the Antivan only a few seconds of his attention, and then he went back to working with his men.

He had checked in with half a dozen more groups before the other man spoke from over his shoulder, and he straightened up to his full height at the sound of his voice.

“This is an impressive show, Commander,” the Antivan said, genuinely impressed. “You have done well.”

Cullen turned slowly to look at the other man, feeling rather pleased to see that he stood almost a full head taller than the Antivan she had been engaged to.

“Thank you,” he replied evenly.

“Commander… Rutherford, was it? I apologize, I have heard many names this afternoon, and they are all mixing together.”

“That’s correct,” Cullen told him with a small frown.

Lanos smiled widely, flashing his too-white teeth again. “Excellent. I am sorry to hear of your… familiarity with Lady Trevelyan, Commander. But do you not agree that one of her station requires someone who can offer her more than a sword and shield? Things like land, and silks, among other finery?”

Cullen took a deep breath, resting his hands on the pommel of his sword deliberately. Lord Lanos, to his credit, did not react to the display. “You clearly don’t know the _Inquisitor,_ Lord Lanos,” he almost spat at the man. “Just what does she want for land, when she owns a castle herself? And just what does a warrior care for silks and finery? I have worked for her and with her for months. I am well aware of her wishes, as she has made them very clear to me, particularly in the past two days. You would do well to respect her; I have seen what happens to those who don’t.”

“Do I sense a challenge, Commander?” Lord Lanos was smiling wickedly.

Cullen thought that maybe the man was baiting him deliberately, but he didn’t care. This was exactly what he wanted. “It most certainly is,” he answered, staring the Antivan man down coldly. “I believe it is Antivan tradition to sort out our differences in a one-on-one duel?”

“You are well-versed, Commander,” Lord Lanos nodded slowly, holding his chin high. “When and where would you propose we settle this?”

“After dinner, right here.”

“I agree to those terms, Commander Rutherford. We will see who comes out victorious.”

Cullen watched with a sneer as the Antivan man stalked away, listening to the whispering between his soldiers which was spreading like wildfire.

“I do not like him one bit.”

“They’re going to duel over the Herald tonight? We gotta make sure we see it!”

“Did you hear the way he spoke about the Inquisitor?”

“You got this one, Commander. Stick ‘im like the pig ‘e is.”

Cullen snorted at that one, not bothering to stop them. In a matter of minutes, the entire castle would know of their arrangement.

Where Rowen was concerned, he would do anything. The bigger the audience, the better.

 

*                             *                             *

 

Rowen invited her father to join them for a private dinner in her quarters, not having left them since she had escaped from Lord Lanos through the door hours before.

Her father seemed uneasy throughout, but refused to speak about it, deflecting with questions about the Inquisition and her friends, the work, how her magic worked on the Rifts throughout the land.

Rowen breathed a quiet sigh of relief when her parents turned down desert, telling her they were tired from the journey and wished to retire early. She gave them a quarter hour head start before escaping to the tavern.

When Rowen left her quarters, emerging into the main hall, she was surprised to find it completely empty. Usually there were nobles milling about at almost all hours of the day.

She crept cautiously to the great doors of the hall, leading to the upper courtyard and the tavern, pushing them open carefully before stepping outside and pushing them closed behind her.

There was an unusual amount of cheering and shouting coming from the training yard by the main gate, and when she looked over the railing, she saw that almost everyone in Skyhold was there, forming a wide circle around two solitary figures-

She wouldn’t have recognized Cullen if he didn’t shift, the late day sun reflecting off his golden hair.

Rowen started to panic as she realized the other man must be Lord Lanos, and she leapt from the top landing down to the lower set of stairs, taking the rest of the trip down at a sprint, slowing only when she reached the outer edge of the crowd.

“Please, I need to get through-” she stated, and those who could hear her fell quiet. Their silence was contagious, spreading through the crowd in a wave, so that she could hear the first clash of swords from somewhere ahead.

She pushed through more violently now, but she knew the people gathered would forgive her. They got out of her way when they could, watching her pass, until she suddenly broke through the front line next to Josephine.

Her Ambassador had a hand pressed to her open mouth, her large grey eyes wide with fear, skin a little pale.

So it had been _her_ idea.

Rowen turned, entranced, as she heard their swords clashing again: they were fighting with light rapiers, which Cullen was certainly unused to, and he held it too strongly for it to be effective, his empty hand held next to him as if he were carrying a shield; Lord Lanos held his rapier lightly, flexibly, his free hand held behind his back.

Again the clashed, circling, until Lanos’ blade almost sliced Cullen across the cheek, and she scrambled forward into the ring.

“Stop!”

They both turned to look at her at once, not relaxing their tense forms in case the other should strike, putting some distance between themselves with a step backward.  

“Rowen!” Cullen said, his face belying his surprise.

“My Lady Trevelyan, it is an honour-”

Rowen cut him off as she stepped past him without even a glance in his direction, coming to stand in front of her Commander.

“What are you _doing_?” she asked, tone scathing.

Cullen looked exasperated, letting out a short huff. “Rowen, I can’t take the chance that you might have to marry him!”

“That’s not your decision.” Rowen turned away, putting distance between them, letting out an irritated huff of her own. “This Inquisition needs you. _I_ need you. And yet you threw yourself into danger!” She had barely raised her voice, but the silence in the training yard was so deep, she knew her voice would carry to those on the extreme outside edges of the people gathered to watch. “Why do this? Why risk _everything_ we’ve built? Why risk your _life_?”

“Because I love you!”

He had relaxed his tense stance, his sword hanging uselessly at his side, voice broken as he declared it immediately for the entire castle to hear: he had shouted it with the strength of the man who commands armies, his voice bouncing back on the cold stone walls, even scaring some birds off the top of the tower overlooking the stables.

Rowen felt her own heart starting to pound, her anger and fear dissipating in an instant, replaced with an overwhelming amount of shock and something else she couldn’t name.

“You – you do?”

“He does?” Lord Lanos echoed her, his own defensive stance relaxing.

“You heard me,” Cullen almost snarled at the other man before turning back to her. “And I mean it. Every word. I would do anything, _anything_ , for you. If I could go back, I would do it all over again.”

Rowen ran to him, and he dropped his pathetic little sword, his strong hands finding her waist as he lifted her in a spin, their lips coming together in a desperate rush of emotion as they slowed their momentum, coming to a stop as they surfaced, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you, too,” she told him, her voice breathy.

“Well-fought, Commander,” came the voice of Lord Lanos from beside them.

Rowen looked up at the Antivan man, who had a small smile on his face as he sheathed his rapier. “Lord Lanos-”

He stopped her kindly with a raised hand. “I had assumed that your liaison with the Commander was an affair of passion, or convenience, Lady Inquisitor. But I’m not fool enough to stand in the way of true affection. The Lanos’… _regretfully_ withdraw the terms of our betrothal,” he told her, though he sounded anything but regretful, instead bestowing them with a wide, toothy smile.

“Thank you,” Rowen responded, feeling her tense shoulders finally relaxing.

“You have no need to thank me, My Lady. I know when I am outmatched.”

Rowen watched him walk away, disappearing into the crowd, before turning on Cullen again. He reached for her hands, holding them lightly between them.

“That went... better than I expected,” Cullen told her, raising an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you be impressed by another duelling scar?”

“Another?” she countered, feining insult, and he chuckled as she reached up to trace a fingertip along the scar crossing his lip, his hand never letting hers go as she did. When they dropped again, she looked demurely at the grass to their left. “Commander, I love you _precisely_ the way you are.”

Cullen let her hands go, instead grasping her waist lightly again, pulling her closer, and she didn’t care about the crowd, or the way everyone would be talking of nothing but them for weeks: for now, it was just her and Cullen, alive and whole, together.

“Oh, just kiss me again,” she told him with a grin, her hands twisting into the front of his shirt, and he complied, sending the entirety of Skyhold into an uproar, their cheering ringing off the stones in a deafening din.

Rowen Trevelyan was free.

She had never been happier in her entire life.

 

*                             *                             *

 

Cullen joined Rowen in her quarters for a time a few days later, sitting with her in front of the fire on her couch, a bottle of wine open on the table in front of them.

He hadn’t touched his glass in a while, because she was leaning on his shoulder, and he didn’t want to disturb her.

They would all be leaving in the morning for Halamshiral. Her parents had left the day after his duel.

Her father had apologized profusely, her mother praising Cullen for his tenacity.

“I can’t stop thinking about your duel with Lanos,” Rowen admitted as she snuggled into the hollow of his neck, a hand finding his chest. “The crowd, the deafening silence, the sound of your swords ringing…”

Cullen turned to look down at her, his chin brushing the top of her head.

“I was so scared for you, but at the same time… It was the most exhilarating thing I’ve seen in Ages.”

“I was worried that you’d still be angry that I started the duel in the first place,” he admitted to her.

“I was only worried for you safety. Our positions here allow for so little of it.”

Cullen stayed quiet, turning back to the fire.

She readjusted against him again, trying to snuggle still closer. “You know, when I first laid eyes on you under that Rift at the Temple, I had no idea we’d become… this.”

He drew the arm that was draped over her shoulder in closer, burying his face in her hair again for a moment. “Something suggested you were special the moment I first saw you,” he told her. He still remembered the way her appearance there had hit him like a battering ram, and he had been completely smitten by her ever since.

“You mean the Anchor? I’d say that makes me pretty special,” she teased, and he laughed. “In all seriousness, though… I’m glad it did,” she smiled at him.

They were quiet again for a few moments, this time broken by Cullen speaking up. “I love our moments together, like these,” he admitted, and she looked up at him, “especially given your greater calling.” He pulled her close again, his hand finding a few stray strands of hair to twist lightly between his fingers. “It helps me forget that I have to share you with the rest of the world.”

“Hang the world,” Rowen told him, and he laughed again. “It can survive without the Inquisitor and her Commander every now and again.”

“Right now,” he told her, leaning his head against the top of hers contentedly, “I very much agree.”

**Author's Note:**

> I used one of my own Inquisitors here, since /u/Japhir wasn't picky. 
> 
> This was SO. MUCH. FUN. Picturing the way Cullen would just break as he shouts his feelings to the world, it just... eugh.


End file.
